You’re on vacation, strolling through a small European town. Your senses feast on the blueness of the sky, the texture of the clouds, the fragrance of the bougainvillea, and the sound of your shoes on cobblestones as you follow the road less taken. 

You happen upon a stone bridge arching over a broad canal. You stop, mesmerized by the rippling of the current, the light glinting off the water, and the music of the gentle rapids. Your eyes are drawn to the small boats making their way up and down the waterway. The many other delights you’ve experienced suddenly fade from your consciousness as you gaze at the flowing channel beneath your feet. Even the anticipation of local pastries awaiting you across the bridge can’t pull you away. 

What is it about water that fascinates us, that captures our attention and imagination, that seems to override all other sensory impressions and relegate them to the back burner of our minds? What is it about watercraft sailing slowly along that we find so entrancing? And if this phenomenon is so commonplace, why isn’t there a word to describe it? 

In fact, there is. And it’s this week’s addition to the Ethical Lexicon: 

Gongoozle (gon·?goo·?zel/ gahn-goo-zel) verb 

To stand and stare idly at boats moving through a canal or watercourse 

Theories abound to explain the magnetic attraction of water on the human psyche. Some suggest that the rush of water echoes the sound a fetus hears surrounded by amniotic fluid in its mother’s womb. Others hypothesize an elemental connection to the source that provides for and sustains all living things. 

Beyond that, it’s the movement of boats along the surface of the water in which you find a compelling allegory for our own journey through time and life, for the interconnection of past, present, and future. 

Water flows from unseen origins, whether the deep recesses of the earth or the snowcapped mountain peaks. And, whether it emerges from the depths below or the heights above, it drives inexorably toward the sea, as all things return to their origins in search of their ultimate destiny. 

Water flowing in its course seems to tell a story, and that story becomes our own. We want our lives to be meaningful, to imagine ourselves as captain of a vessel upon a river, whose voyage is defined by a beginning, a middle, and an end. We want to stay within the river’s banks and see ourselves as partners and participants in the purpose for which the river came into being. We want to feel that sense of progress, direction, and attachment to something greater than ourselves. 

Whether in society or business, this mindset underlies any healthy culture. And it’s one we can acquire by asking ourselves a few simple questions: 

• Where have we come from? 

• Where are we going? 

• What are we here to accomplish? 

• What will remain of us after we’ve gone? 

• How will we leave the world better than we found it? 

Simply asking ourselves these questions increases the likelihood that we will find our way to meaningful answers. Of course, every for-profit business is designed to make money (or should be). But the way to attract loyal and enthusiastic customers and clients is by welcoming them into your story, inviting them along on your journey, and providing them with a product or a service and a sense of partnership in a higher mission. 

So much of branding attempts to influence the subconscious mind through the use of fonts, colors, images, word choice, and messaging. But when the tricks and tactics strike a chord that resonates with a genuine, aspirational message, customers will come back again and again, and employees will feel fulfilled in providing real value rather than illusion and deception. 

So the next time you find yourself gongoozling by a river, lakefront, or harbor, reflect on the questions of direction, destination, and destiny. Even better, visualize the course of your life and your work. Compose the story of what you would like your journey to be, then share it with others, and invite them to become your partners in making it so.